


➳Winchester's Coffee & Cake➳

by aliveagainavenger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nobody Dies, Supernatural - Freeform, cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveagainavenger/pseuds/aliveagainavenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides to live his dream and set up his own coffee and cake shop, with the help of Castiel, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Plaid Shirts and To-Do Lists

Dean surveyed the faded old sign hanging lopsidedly from the front of the building. There was no point trying to salvage it, he’d have to get a whole new one. Maybe Charlie could paint it for him. He had bought the old place a week before, in the hopes of starting up his own business. He wanted to turn bummed-out old newsagency into a coffee and cake shop. Like a café, but Dean didn’t want to have to sort out meals at this point in time. 

He pulled the key out of his jeans pocket and opened the grimy glass doors. Inside, it was dark and cold. The inside of the building had been gutted, with a broken overhead light and old plasterboard chips scattered on the chilly concrete floor as remnants of the building’s previous life. Dean thought about all the pictures that he had stuck in a little notebook as ideas for the interior of the place. It was hard to try and transfer them into this dingy space.

Dean had made a list in his notebook of what he had to do before he opened. The first big job, Dean decided, was the floor. He’d have to hire someone to polish and clean it, and then he’d lacquer it so it went a dark grey colour. He wanted the ceiling white instead of the ugly yellow, and an almost-black brick wall up the back. And some light-bulbs hanging from chains on the ceiling. Dean thought that having an industrial-type place would fit in well with the vibe of the city. Although there was a lot of work to do, Dean felt optimistic. After years of saving, he was finally living his dream.

➳➳➳

Back home in his small flat, Dean began sketching some designs in his notebook for the shop sign. He played with a few titles, and ‘Winchester’s Coffee & Cake’ seemed best to him. Or ‘D.W.’s Coffee & Cake’. He’d ask Charlie later on if he should have it in all caps or regular. He stifled a yawn. There was plenty of time to decide on the sign before opening. 

Even though Dean was feeling excited about opening his own café, he was also stressing out a bit. Yes, he had made a to-do list, but it went on for about seven pages. _“One thing at a time, Winchester,”_ he mumbled to himself. He walked to the shower, peeling off his too-tight jeans. They’d shrunk in the wash a while back, but Dean didn’t really care. He shucked off his soft plaid shirt and his underwear before taking out his gold helix stud and small hoop earring. Sam kept telling him that it made him look like a ‘wannabe punk’, but Dean really liked them. They weren’t big and noticeable, but still said something about him. Plus, when he had gotten them done, it had earned him several approving looks from Cas, so Dean knew he’d made a good decision. He stepped under the warm spray and relaxed, tension easing from his shoulders. He soaped himself and massaged a little bit of shampoo through his short, soft hair, which he liked to spike up when he was going out somewhere. After he’d cleaned himself, he stood there under the warm water for another ten minutes, pondering all that this new business venture could mean for him. And also where he was going to find someone to polish the dirty old floor for him. 

After towelling off and pulling his boxers on, he put on another flannel shirt, since it was getting cooler. It was soft, faded and worn in patches; it had been Sam’s when he was younger. It had fit him when he was six foot, (Dean’s height), but now Sammy was six four and ‘built like a brick shithouse’, according to Dean. It smelled of Sam’s cologne and cinnamon from where Dean had made snickerdoodle cookies for Sam’s kids the other week. Jensen and Alana were growing up fast. Jensen was 9, and Alana was 12, and were growing like weeds. The kids had clearly gotten their height from Sam, since Jess wasn’t very tall. Dean sighed. He was getting old, he thought, his 35th was coming up soon. He had heard a few mumblings from Charlie and Jo about how Cas was planning something for him, but he’d tuned it out, since he wanted it to be a surprise. 

Dean snuggled in under his duvet, and buried his head in his pillow. It still smelled of Cas’ shampoo from when he had crashed on Dean’s bed after Sam had put too much rum in the fruitcake they’d had at Jess’ birthday party not long ago. Cas was a total lightweight, much to Dean’s amusement. Dean took a deep sniff of the pillow. The scent, combined with the one from his flannel shirt, was comforting. It was a reminder of the two people he cared about the most. Dean fell asleep easily, with a hint of a smile on his handsome face.


	2. Bacon and Bedheads

Dean awoke the next morning to the wonderful smell of bacon frying. “Who’s in my house,” he mumbled as he extricated himself from his blanket, sat up, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It would either be Cas or Charlie, since they were they only ones who knew where he hid his spare key. He stumbled into the kitchen to greet his early morning guest. 

“Oh, hey there Cas,” Dean said sleepily. Cas smiled in return. He was already dressed in a t-shirt and old jeans, but he hadn’t brushed out his bedhead. His five-o’clock shadow on his squarish jaw matched Dean’s perfectly; they were too lazy to shave regularly. Cas was a quiet type of person, who enjoyed lengthy walks by himself and the companionable silences that you have when you are on a road trip. He was always reading a book and loved to have meaningful discussions with whoever would listen; which these days was mostly Dean. 

“What are you doin’ here Cas?”  
“Making you breakfast.”  
“Yeah, I know, but, why?”  
“I guess I’m just in one of those nesting moods again.”

Dean smiled a goofy smile. “Aw, s’okay Cas. I get like that sometimes too.” Dean was referring to the snickerdoodle cookies. Cas chuckled. He remembered how good they had tasted. While Dean didn’t really want to go around advertising his skills as a housewife, he really was an excellent cook, as he had proved at Thanksgiving that year. 

Dean shuffled over next to Cas at the bench-top to start a pot of strong, black coffee. Once he’d poured it, he stood there blowing on the surface to cool it down as Cas flipped the bacon. Once Dean was satisfied with the temperature and taken a sip, Cas plated up the bacon and asked, “Dean, how’s things going with the new shop?” Dean shrugged.  
“Okay, I suppose. But I have a lot of work to do.” He thought back to his notebook. “Do you happen to know someone who polishes concrete?”  
Cas chuckled. “Sorry Dean. Check the business listings in the phone book.”  
“Okay Cas.”

Dean munched on his bacon and drank his coffee as Cas smoothed down the small fluffy bird’s nest on the back of Dean’s head. “Dean, I would really love to help you clean up your new shop,” he said. Dean looked up from his breakfast gratefully, his eyes instantly locking with Cas’. That had been happening a lot lately. Dean wondered when they had crossed the line from friends to domestic. 

“Thanks Cas. I’m going to sweep out the floor and then hose it down, if you want to help. And also put in a temporary light bulb and wash the windows, so we can actually see in the joint.” Dean was happily visualising himself crossing things off his to-do list with firm, satisfying strokes of his pencil. Cas nodded in reply. 

“I can help with that.”  
“That’s so awesome!”

Dean sighed contentedly, full of bacon and caffeine. He looked up at the clock in his kitchen, the hands reading 7:30 am. “We’ll make a start there at 8,” Dean said, “But we’ll have to borrow Sammy’s garden hose and probably also his straw broom. I’ve got cleaning chemicals and rubbish bags, and newspaper to wipe the windows with.” Dean also had a packet of loose razor blades that he was going to use to scrape old paint and stickers off the windows with. 

“I’ll make us sandwiches for lunch, Dean.”  
“Aw, hell Cas, you don’t have to.”

Cas chuckled. “But I would like to. So go get dressed and I’ll find something in this science experiment of a fridge.” Dean’s half-eaten cheese sandwich from work about three weeks ago was still sitting there, slowly growing about four different colours of pin-mould on it. Dean worked at Singer’s Mechanic and Panel Beating, and since Bobby was often stuck in the office because of his dodgy knee, Dean did most of the manual work there. Sometimes Sam popped in for a short stint, although he never asked to be paid and helped Bobby with his tax returns more than he helped Dean fix a dented hood. Dean’s pay was decent enough, because, according to him, he was ‘damn fine at what he did’. As much as Dean loved working at Bobby’s, he realised that he wanted to go out and start up something on his own. After talking it over with Bobby and Sam, they agreed to help him however they could with achieving Dean’s dream.

Dean rummaged through his closet, looking for something not oil-stained to wear. He pulled out a burgundy button-up, but then realised that that one was his good shirt, and that he would probably end up grubby anyway. He ended up putting on an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a stained flannel over the top and some faded blue shorts. He wasn’t normally a shorts type of guy, but he was hosing down everything today and he didn’t want his jeans sopping wet. 

He walked back into the kitchen and saw two large foil-wrapped sandwiches on the table and a large canteen of water. He smiled.  
“Ready to go?” asked Cas. Dean thought for a moment, and then grabbed his wallet, keys and his notebook and pencil. Cas walked over to Dean and gently tugged his flannel collar out from under itself, and trailed his hand all the way down Dean’s arm, briefly lingering at his fingertips. Dean considered smoothing out Cas’ bed hair, but decided not to. He liked Cas with messy hair. He realised that they were still staring at each other. Dean grinned. 

“It’s not my fault I’m so attractive.” 

Cas blushed a faint pink at this statement. Dean ignored the sudden urge to grab Cas’ face and kiss him. 

“Alright, let’s go Cas. We’ll stop by Sam’s first.” 

They left Dean’s flat and climbed into the Impala. All the way to Sam and Jess’, Dean’s arm tingled slightly from where Cas had touched him. He looked over from the driver’s seat and smiled at Cas, who was comfortably staring out the window, watching suburbia go by in flashes of green clipped lawns and white-bricked houses.


	3. Cas Made Toasties & A Winchester Family Dinner

Dean scraped off the last of the stickers from the windows. He could now see his Baby, parked on the street with her black, shiny paint glinting in the sunlight. The window was so clean that it looked as if it wasn’t there. Dean hoped that he wouldn’t accidentally try to walk through it later. His gaze flicked back to the Impala and he sighed with pride.

“Dean, stop staring at your car, it’s getting a little weird now.”

Dean just laughed, and Cas went back to tying up rubbish bags full of dust and building scraps.

“Ah Cas, what am I going to do with you?”

Cas’ fingers were fumbling with the pull-out ties on the overflowing bag. He had been feeling rather flustered ever since Dean had reached up to change that stupid light bulb, and his shirt had risen enough to reveal his toned, clean-cut stomach. Dean eyed the rubbish bag.

“You alright there Cas?” he asked as he deftly tied the bag up and nudged it to the side with his boot. Dean put his hands on Cas’ shoulders and eyed him closely.  
“Yes, I’m quite fine Dean.”  
“You sure? You seem a little shaky, is all.” 

Cas tried not to let himself become distracted, Dean’s hands were warming his shoulders with his touch. Dean became a little lost in Cas, trying to read him, to figure him out. As a result, he lingered for a lot longer than he probably meant to. Cas swallowed and put his hands on Dean’s generous biceps in response. Their eyes locked again, Dean’s candy-apple green bouncing off Cas’ starry blue. Everything had gone quiet, and Dean could hear their earnest breathing echoing around the room. Something low and warm curled in the pit of his stomach, begging Dean to do something.

“Fucking screw it.”

Dean leaned in and gently brushed his nose against Cas’ before connecting their lips. Cas practically melted into Dean’s arms, and poured all his pent-up feelings and slight confusion into the kiss. Dean pulled Cas flush against him, deepening the kiss, and as he did, he felt warm, safe and happy. Cas was home, he realised.  
The air around them was heady and thick when they broke apart.

”I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” breathed Dean.  
”I’m so grateful that you did,” replied Cas, stroking his thumb over Dean’s freckled cheekbone. He kissed Dean’s nose and said,  
“I think it’s sandwich time.”

Cas and Dean sat down on an old towel on the floor and unwrapped their sandwiches. The wonderful smell of bacon and cheese filled their lungs.

“Cas, dude, you made toasties?!?!!”  
”I thought you might like them.”

Cas didn’t get a reply, since Dean was busy stuffing his face. Dean wiped his mouth on his plaid shirt and smiled. He wasn’t really sure what else to say. Cas fidgeted with the foil wrapper of his toastie.

“Dean, be my boyfriend?”  
”I thought you’d never ask.”

Dean wrapped an arm around Cas and kissed his temple while he finished his toastie. He looked around the room and thought that he’d better get the hose going on the floor. And he remembered that he owed Charlie twenty dollars.

Three hours, plenty of scrubbing, chemicals and god knows how much water later, the floor was clean. Dean unplugged the hose and rolled it back up in a coil. Sammy did always like his things to be neat and tidy. Cas flopped back against the wall, exhausted. Dean shoved the rest of his things in a bucket and let out a deep sigh. 

“I reckon it’s time to go home. We did some pretty solid work here today.”  
”Agreed. I’m about to fall asleep against this wall.”

Dean chuckled, and then tensed slightly before asking his next question. 

“Stay the night?”

Cas’ eyebrows raised and then lowered, as if they were trying to make his mind up for him. Dean looked a bit worried, and shuffled on his feet. But then Cas let out a beautiful, happy laugh and threw his arms around Dean, causing him to drop the bucket and the hose. It uncurled itself on the floor. Cas looked Dean straight in the face.

“Anything for you, Dean.”

Dean crushed his mouth against Cas’, he had been having the most wonderful day so far. Coffee, bacon, his shop, and now Cas. Cas finally broke away.

“We should drop Sam back his things.”  
“Okay. Let’s go.”

Dean locked up the shop and hopped into Baby with Cas. Before he started the engine, Dean said, “Cas, should we tell Sam now or later?” Cas looked thoughtful for a minute. 

“Whenever suits you, Dean. I don’t mind.”  
“Now it is, then.”

The late afternoon sun glinted off Baby’s roof, and Dean had an old Air Supply song playing on the radio. Cas looked over from his window-gazing occasionally to admire Dean’s lovely, strong profile. He had his serious driving face on, and also appeared to be struggling not to sing along. 

“Just let it all out, Dean.”

Dean looked a little taken aback. Then he realised what Cas was getting on about. He laughed, and his face relaxed. Then he began to sing (albeit with a touch of drama), and tap his fingers on the steering wheel. Cas grinned. Dean had a lovely, mellow voice.

“I’m all out of love, I’m so lost without you, I know you were right, believing for so long!”

Cas joined in. 

“I’m all out of love, what am I without you, I can’t be too late, to say that I was so wrooooooong!”

80’s heartache songs, the whole 20 minutes to Sam’s house. Cas wasn’t a huge fan, but Dean obviously was, so he went along with it. Cas was actually more than happy to endorse mullet rock, so long as he got to hear Dean sing. 

➳➳➳

They pulled up in front of Sam’s house. It was about medium-sized, with a cliché white-picket fence and an ample backyard for Alana and Jensen to play in. Alana used to flit around as a little fairy princess-ballerina, picking weeds from the lawn and thinking that they were flowers, but now she’d set up some dirt jumps for her bike. Jess hadn’t liked them, saying that they were ugly, but Sam had persuaded her otherwise, since Alana was having so much fun. They’d grassed over now, so Jess decided to let it go. Alana loved her bike, and she still loved her ballet, although she wasn’t about to admit to her weekend lessons in front of her school friends. She had a macho, tomboy appearance to keep up. Sam and Jess found it very entertaining. Jensen had his big long trampoline, and he spent most of his time doing all manner of flips and jumps. Sam joked that he should join the circus, but Jess just rolled her eyes. Alana thought Jensen joining the circus was a fabulous idea, since then he wouldn’t be around to annoy the hell out of her. But when it came down to it, they were inseparable, just as Dean and Sam had been at that age. 

Dean and Cas walked up on the front porch, and Dean knocked on the door. It was bright red. Sam, Alana and Jensen had painted it to surprise Jess, who wasn’t very impressed. But, like most of the things that her crazy family did, it grew on her. And it made the Winchester family residence a lot easier to find. Jensen answered the door, it was about 4 o’clock, and he and Alana were home from school.

“Mum! Uncle Dean’s here!” 

Jess came through to let them in. Jensen squeezed Dean, and then hugged Cas as well. They walked through to the kitchen, and Dean went and put Sam’s things down out on the back deck. Jess hugged Dean and then Cas in turn. Then she eyed them cheekily. 

“Any news you two boys want to share?”

Cas blushed as Sam walked in, followed by Alana. Dean grinned as Sam Winchester & Co. all gathered around and stared at him expectantly. Dean grabbed Cas’ hand tightly.

“We’re boyfriends now.”

“OH HALLELUJAH!” said Alana, rather loudly. Jensen high-fived both Dean and Cas. Jess smiled, and Sam burst out laughing. 

“Took you two long enough.”  
“Yeah, well, I guess it came as a little bit of a surprise.”  
“What, when you found out you were hopelessly smitten with Cas? Please, Dean. You’ve been fifty shades of gay for as long as I can remember.”  
“Shut up, Sammy.”

Cas chuckled. Sam and Dean in a banter was always hilarious. Jess was just about to do her trademark eye-roll when Alana piped up, “Can Uncle Dean and Uncle Cas stay for dinner?”  
Cas had been close with the Winchesters for a few years now, and it warmed his heart to hear Alana refer to him as her Uncle. Dean seemed to be smiling at this too.  
A look of brief but genuine panic crossed Jess’ face. “What have I got in the fridge?” she worried. “Who cares?” said Sam, “we’ll just grab whatever we can find and mix it together. Or we can just let Dean loose.” 

“I vote Dean,” said Jess in a rather apprehensive tone. The last time they had mixed random things together for fun at a Winchester family dinner, it had been a complete disaster. Jess felt like she needed a cup of herbal tea just remembering the incident. By this point, Dean was already poking around in the fridge and freezer. “Looks like you got yourself some mince here,” he said, putting it onto the bench. “And some eggs. Meatballs, anyone?” “I’ve got some herbs you could use,” piped up Jensen. Jensen had been growing his own little herb garden in his planter box on his windowsill. For a boy so energetic and playful, he could actually be quite gentle and caring. Which is why his herbs were doing so well. Dean was very proud. 

“Great! Jen, could you grab me some basil?”  
“No problem, Dean-o.”

Jess was about to reprimand Jensen on his recent nickname for Dean, but Dean gestured that it was fine. It was like his little Sammy all over again, but three times as loud, and, according to Alana, fifty times as annoying. Dean bent over and began rummaging through the crisper drawer of the fridge, settling on some tomatoes that were very close to expiring. Cas tried not to stare at Dean’s ass, inviting as ever, even in his old shorts. Sam sniggered. “Oh quit it, you three,” Jess said. Then she made herself a cup of tea and went to sit out on the deck. 

An hour later, Dean had the kitchen smelling wonderful, with beef and basil meatballs grilling and pasta bubbling away on the stove. Dean had blanched the tomatoes and mashed them up, boiling them on the stove with balsamic vinegar and sugar to make sauce. Cas walked into the kitchen, making sure A & J, as Sam called them, were out of earshot. 

“You could be a fucking _chef_ , Dean. This smells heavenly.”  
“It seems to be the only thing I’m good at.”  
“No, Dean, you can make an old car look brand new, you can sing, you’re so patient with the kids, you have frigging _earrings…_ ”

Dean blushed slightly. He’d never admit to blushing, and if anyone had come and asked him about it, he would have just blamed it on the heat from the stove. There was no question about where Alana had gotten her macho attitude from. 

“Well what about you, Castiel. You can draw and paint better than anyone I’ve ever met, and you make the greatest cup of coffee known to mankind. And I love that stupid trench coat. I really do.”

Dean gave the pot of tomato a stir, grinning. Cas put his arms around Dean from behind, and was just about to kiss Dean’s neck (and was seriously considering taking one of Dean’s earrings between his teeth), when Sam barged into the kitchen. Seeing as Sam was 6’4”, it was always a big deal when he barged in somewhere. 

“Can I help make the drinks?”

Dean turned around and gave Sam his most murderous look.

“You fucking cockblocker.”  
“Hahahahahahhh”

Sam clearly thought that he was extremely funny, when really he wasn’t. Jensen was the funny one. Cas tried to put on his best bitchface, but he ended up looking like a lost kitten.

“Sam, man, I was just about to have what would have turned out be an amazing kiss with Cas, my fucking boyfriend, but then you just stomped on in like you frigging own the place, and…”

Dean suddenly realised that Sam did indeed own this house. Sam cracked up laughing again. Dean cleared his throat, embarrassed. Cas was laughing too, even though he was disappointed their kitchen make-out session never eventuated. 

“Don’t worry, Sam. I think there’s some orange juice and possibly flat lemonade in the back of the fridge. You can mix those up.”

 _Ah, Cas,_ thought Dean, _always the pacifier._ Sam gratefully went about his task as Dean began to plate up the food. Jensen, Alana and Jess were all setting out the deck table, and Dean decided he’d let Cas be in charge of the desserts.

On the deck, Alana had switched on the fairy lights they normally reserved for Christmas time. Long, dripping ropes of glittering white light surrounded everyone, and Dean thought it was rather magical. He sat beside Cas, and gave him a look that suggested that they were on some kind of date. Cas smiled and fiddled with Dean’s helix piercing. Sam snorted into his orange juice, and Alana and Jensen giggled. Jess was too busy shovelling in the food to notice. 

While everyone was busy eating, Cas paused for a little while to let the events of the day soak in. Dean’s shop was looking a million times cleaner. They’d had amazing toasties, Dean had kissed him, he’d asked Dean out, and now they were officially boyfriends. And he was surrounded by Sam’s beautiful young family and was eating some of the best-tasting food he’d had in a long time. Somedays, life gave you lemons. But today, Cas thought, life had given him a sweet, gorgeous slice of apple pie named Dean Winchester.


	4. Cas Wears Dean's Shirt and Things Look Up For Dean's Cafe

Dean unlocked the door to his flat at 11pm that night. They’d all watched a movie after Cas had made dessert, which had ended up just being some ice-cream and a packet of frozen berries. A & J wanted to watch Frozen again, but were met with four mournful adult groans. Cas had rummaged through the Winchester’s DVD cupboard, and pulled out Robin Hood, which according to Cas, was ‘the best Disney movie ever’ and was therefore ‘way better than Frozen’. After a few fits of laughter during the movie, Cas put his arm around Dean and snuggled in. Sam did the same with Jess, Alana had snuggled close to Cas, and Jensen, who was very tired, had fallen in and out of sleep on Dean’s shoulder.

“You wanna shower Cas?”  
“No thanks Dean, but I will in the morning.”  
“No Problem.”

Dean was about to go and get the guest room ready, when he remembered that Cas was his _boyfriend_ now. Dean put his things on the kitchen table. A mug was sitting there from where Cas hadn’t quite finished his coffee that morning. He draped his now-rumpled plaid over a chair. Cas stuck his jacket next to it. Their eyes met, and Dean was suddenly nervous. _‘Holy shit,’_ he thought. He smoothed his spiky hair back. He took a hold of Cas’ hand, running his thumb over Cas’ knuckles and smiling. The last time they’d been in Dean’s flat together was that morning, and they’d been platonic then. _‘But we aren’t platonic anymore,’_ remembered Dean. “Bedroom’s this way,” said Dean, with a playful wink in his eye. Cas laughed, and followed Dean into his room. Dean gestured to the entire space.

“Make yourself at home.”

Then Dean rummaged through his cupboards. He threw Cas a pair of boxers, and after a brief pause, his favourite blue plaid. Cas caught the flying pieces of apparel, confused at first, but then he realised that he was meant to wear them to bed. With Dean. Cas was incredibly happy, and also a bit overwhelmed. Something bubbled in his stomach. _‘Excitement’_ , he thought.

Dean shrugged off his Led Zep t-shirt and his shorts, and stood there in front of Cas. Cas just stared, eyeing Dean’s perfectly sculpted abs and chest. And his shoulders. Wow. _‘I don’t think there are words’_ , thought Cas. Dean seemed to be enjoying Cas gawking at him.

“Your turn,” he said.

Cas blushed slightly, and then kicked off his socks and jeans, replacing them with Dean’s boxers. Cas discarded his plain old t-shirt, revealing his torso. Now Dean stared. Cas, while he wasn’t all that muscly, was still lean and clean-cut. Dean swallowed a lump that had just risen in his throat and went over to Cas as he was putting on Dean’s plaid. Cas was about to do the buttons up, when Dean stopped him. Cas’ world seemed to slow as Dean’s hand splayed out over his chest. Cas’ skin was warm and soft and smooth, Dean noted. “I’ll turn out the lights,” Cas offered as Dean’s fingers traced his collarbones. “Sure,” said Dean, and he pulled back the duvet on the bed as Cas flipped the switch and the room was cast into darkness, save for the patch of moonlight coming in through the gap in the curtains.

Dean turned to see Cas glowing in the dim light. Butterflies swirled upwards through his belly, and caught in his throat. Cas walked back over to Dean and took him in his arms. Dean pulled Cas close, and laid their foreheads together. Cas’ warm breath swirled down Deans’ neck, and Dean was certain he’d just broken out in goosebumps. Cas connected their lips, and they kissed, slow and sweet. Dean’s mouth curled perfectly beneath Cas’, their arms wrapped tightly around one another.

Dean broke away so they could climb into his bed together. As soon as they were comfortable beneath the covers, Dean practically rolled onto Cas and promptly began kissing him again. Cas may or may not have rolled his hips up into Dean’s slightly. Dean, growing tired, rested his head on Cas’ shoulder. Cas took this golden opportunity to suck slightly on Dean’s earring loop, playing with it between his teeth. Dean moaned slightly. He knew those piercings were an excellent decision.

“You know Cas, if I wasn’t so tired and full of food, I’d probably jump your bones here and now.”  
“Next time, then.”

Dean stared at Cas, disbelievingly.

“Seriously?”  
“I’m very serious Dean.”  
“Holy fucking shit.”

Cas laughed before pulling Dean around him as the big spoon, since he was a lot taller. He closed his eyes and sighed happily.

“I love you, Dean Winchester.”  
“I love you too, Castiel Novak.”

Dean gave Cas a goodnight kiss on the jawbone, and they fell asleep, happy and warm in each other’s arms.

➳➳➳

Cas awoke the next morning, having to pee really badly. Too much orange juice last night. The next thing he realised was that he was in Dean’s bed, and Dean wasn’t there for some reason. Cas decided he’d worry about it _after_ he’d gone and relived himself. As he walked to the bathroom, he heard Dean singing an old Bon Jovi song in the shower. As he closed the door to the loo, he wondered about their future together. _‘I hope he sings in the shower every morning,’_ he thought.

Ten minutes later, Cas was sipping coffee out on the kitchen table, and Dean walked in with a towel on his head.

“Mornin’ Cas! How’d you sleep?”  
“Quite well, thankyou Dean.”  
“Your offer from last night still stand?”

Cas’ cheeks turned pink, and he gripped his coffee cup tighter for moral support.

“Of course it does.”

Dean grinned, his green eyes flashing and the freckles on his cheeks and nose becoming more obvious. He pulled his towel off from his head, and his hair spiked up rather adorably. They happily stared at one another for a bit, and then Dean remembered what he’d had to tell Cas.

“Oh, Cas, I made a few calls earlier this morning, and guess what?”  
“What?”  
“I found a dude who can help us with the concrete floor!”  
“Really? That’s amazing Dean!”  
“Yeah! And guess what, his name is Dan. Dan the Concrete Man. That’s literally what it said on his business listing in the phone book.”

Cas just laughed. Dean went and made his own cup of coffee, and sat down next to Cas. He pulled out his trusty, well-worn notebook. He flipped to the pages that had his giant to-do list on it. Dean crossed off the windows and cleaning the floor.

“Wait a second – what’s this?” Cas questioned, flipping back several pages to Dean’s café sign designs.

“Well, I was gonna send Charlie the final design, but I’m having a bit of trouble coming up with something.”  
“Winchester’s Coffee & Cake, I like that.”  
“Thanks Cas.”  
“Could I try and sketch a few things?”  
“Of course.”

Castiel had gone to university and studied a dual degree of Art and Graphic Design, and he currently worked for a design company in town. They didn’t get a whole lot of business, most customers just wanting Cas to design them a new business card. Castiel had considered moving cities in order to get more work, but that would mean leaving Dean and all the wonderful friends he had met here. Bobby, the mechanic and his no-nonsense wife Ellen Harvelle, and Ellen’s daughter Jo Harvelle, who was dating Charlie Bradbury, and had been for as long as anyone could remember. Charlie owned a fairly successful screenprinting business, and Jo all the admin, as well as helping her mother run The Roadhouse, or Harvelle’s Bar ‘n’ Grill. Cas had met Dean and everyone else through Charlie when he’d begun ordering his designs to be printed to business cards. When the design company wasn’t doing so well, Cas took on shifts at The Roadhouse, mixing drinks and waiting tables. Which, sadly, seemed to be a fair bit these days. So Cas was more than happy to put his artistic talents to use for Dean’s café. Cas hoped that it wouldn’t end up like the company he worked for.

Cas took Dean’s notebook and a pencil, and sat at the table thoughtfully for a while, tapping the pencil on the coffee cup. Dean began to make apple cinnamon porridge for breakfast while he was waiting for Cas. The wonderful warm and spicy smell must have awoken the creative nodes in Cas’ brain, because by the time Dean plated up, Cas had come up with two basic designs. One was a plain background with what appeared to be an arrow in the middle. On closer inspection, Cas had written the name of Dean’s café for the body of the arrow. The second was shaded a deep grey, and had ‘Winchester’s Coffee & Cake’ written in simple, easy cursive on it. Cas had indicated that this was to be in white against the grey background.

“Clean and simple, you know me too well Cas.”  
“Well, I have been around you for a couple years now.”  
“Arrows? Cas, you’re such a fuckin’ hipster.”  
“No Dean, I’m just an artist.”

Dean laughed and began eating his breakfast. It tasted amazing, and Cas agreed.

“What have we got to do today?”  
“well, Dan’s comin’ on Thursday, so today I thought we could clean out the back rooms, and order the paint for the ceiling and walls, aaaand also some lights. And a new benchtop. The other one is unbelievably shitty.”  
“Wow.”  
“Yup. I’ll order everything this afternoon, I reckon.”  
“How messy are the back rooms?”  
“Very.”

Cas carded a hand through his ever-messy hair, sorting through the rest of his week in his head. Friday Saturday he was working, Sunday night he was at the Roadhouse. Apparently a Mustang had been brought into Bobby’s shop, and Dean was super keen to get to work on it on the weekend. While Dean also appeared to be sorting through his week in his head, Castiel made some modifications on his design. ‘Winchester’s’ was still in cursive across the top, but he put ‘coffee’ and ‘cake’ in a round circle, with a larger ampersand in the middle. He pushed the notebook over to Dean.

“Woah, Cas. That looks awesome!”  
“I’ll draw it up properly and send it off to Charlie, then.”  
“Sounds awesome.”  
“Let’s get dressed properly and go.”

Twenty minutes later, Cas was dressed in Dean’s clothes, since all his things were still at his place. Toasties had once again been made, and all the cleaning things were in Baby’s trunk, along with a broom Dean hadn’t yet given back to Sam. Then they were driving, and Dean was laughing as a talk show played on the radio. Cas felt the breeze whip through his hair, and he began to laugh at Dean laughing. As busy as his life sometimes got, Cas knew that he’d always find his solid foundation in Dean, someone who would be his constant when everything was going crazy. Dean turned back to Cas, and unbeknownst to him, was thinking exactly the same thing.


End file.
